


Some Things Never Change

by MandyCandy



Series: No End, No Beginning Universe Expansion [2]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Death, F/M, Graphic Torture, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, NSA, Torture, allusion to main character death, allusion to pedophilia, child smuggling, hostage, not by any of the time team!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 22:19:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15616236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandyCandy/pseuds/MandyCandy
Summary: The Clockblockers went back and changed history, on purpose. Now only Flynn, Lucy, Jiya, and Rufus remember the old timeline.As different as things are in this brave, new world, some things don't change. Like Flynn's paranoia.Picks up near the end of Rebirth (Chapter 7) of 'No End, No Beginning' after Lucy and Flynn return to his condo to find it broken into and he finds a hidden flash drive in a bottle of cough syrup.TRIGGER WARNING:Reference to pedophilia and a child smuggling ring.Character busts the ring, does not partake.Graphic depiction of violence.Allusion of the brutal murder of the main character. (Don't worry, the one you like isn't actually dead, just the previous timeline version of them.)





	Some Things Never Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ethala](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ethala), [empress_starlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empress_starlight/gifts).



> This is dedicated to the two readers that specifically gave me the idea for how to make this work.  
> If you're reading this, thank you!  
> Also, super sorry about taking longer than a week, life got supper busy with paid writing, production, my muggle job becoming super toxic, finding a new (amazing) muggle job, and having to rewrite it twice because of that dumb one-month draft deletion thing >.<
> 
> But here it is!

**Continues in from mid chapter 7,[Rebirth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14601678/chapters/34364003)**

 

> _The next was the bathroom. He picked up the bottles and tucked them away in their places and gave a quick tidy. On top of the medicine cabinet was a lone bottle of Buckley's cough syrup. Not knowing the brand he took it down and felt something shift that wasn't liquid. He opened it and saw a telltale sign of a plastic bag. He pulled it out and rinsed off the foul smelling liquid. Inside was a USB stick. Seemed that other him was just as paranoid as he was. He tucked it away in his pocket, finished up, and moved on._

 

     Flynn rubbed the bridge of his nose and let his eyes unfocus again. A large portion of his job was staring at computer screens or sheets of numbers and trying to find patterns. He had once been asked what his trick was? He explained that he looked at everything blurry, the repeated patterns jumped out at him. No one believed him, but so long as he kept getting the raises and bonuses, he didn't care. 

     He stopped. Brought his eyes back to focus, and highlighted and flagged the six digit account number. He flipped tabbed across the screen and scanned, looking for its match. There is was. He highlighted and flagged it, and continued searching, suddenly more awake than he had been a few minutes ago.

     Four hours later his eyes hurt, but he had found seven other transfers from the out-of-country account. He saved his finds and set it away for tomorrow. He stretched and yawned.

     Flynn grabbed his leather jacket and tossed it over his arm as he grabbed his bag, and clocked out for the night. He made his way out of the office and to his car, not bothering to say goodnight to anyone except Morden.  No one made an effort to say goodnight either, his internal bust still fresh in people's minds. 

     He shrugged internally. They could do whatever they wanted, as far as he was concerned, but if it stepped out of the lines and was harmful to others, well, then they made their choice and he did his job. And in this particular case, it was busting a child trafficking ring protected by a few corrupted CIA and NSA agents. Child smuggling, that was so far beyond the line, Flynn couldn't even map his way back.

     Children.

     Innocent children.

     The list of crimes were unspeakable and he struggled even thinking about them.

     That was his line. Harming children in any way, or women. Call him old fashion, but consent and respect really was more his pace.

 

     "Good evening Mr. Flynn." The security man at the desk greeted him.

     "Evening." He replied gruffly. "No one taken those cats yet?"

     "Yes sir." He shook his head. "I mean no sir, all of them have homes now, there's just the little black one. Seems no one likes black cats."

     Flynn nodded. "Shame." He push the button and the elevator doors slid open and he entered and went to his condo to unwind.

     He dropped his keys on the table inside of the doors, toed off his shoes, and dropped his jacket and bag in his office. He went to the kitchen and pulled together a dinner. He went back to the office and fired up his computer while he ate from the bowl in his hand. Sitting down he tried to focus on the account transfers that he found today, but his mind kept drifting to the lone kitten. Sighing, he called down to the desk.

     "This is Mr Flynn up in 1706, is that kitten still there?"

     "Uh, sir, yes it is." Came the stuttered reply.

     "I'm going to regret this, but can you bring it up here. I could use a roommate." He rolled his eyes at himself.

     "Sure thing sir."

     A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and the guy from the desk earlier had reappeared with the small cat. True to words, the kitten was black all over except for the icy blue eyes.

     "Thanks." He paused. "Do you think I can ask one other favour? If I give you money, can you grab cat, uh, things?"

     "Of course sir."

     Flynn dug out two hundred dollar bills and handed them off. "I have no idea what I need."

     "No problem. I grew up around cats, I'll get you sorted."

     Flynn settled back in his office while the kitten smelled and investigated every corner before using her very tiny but sharp claws to climb up his leg and into his lap. She settled in, falling asleep, while he went over the work he brought home with him.

 

     It had been two weeks and Flynn had found twenty transfers from the account he had been tracing spanning over the course of sixty-eight years. Before that, the money had transferred eleven times from eleven different institutions over the following hundred and seven years. Possibly longer, but the last bank had been destroyed in the First Peoples Rebellions of 1837-1840, the paper trail ended there. There was never a name to the account that he could access, always just a number which, from what he understood, was highly unusual for any period prior to computerized banking.

     Flynn leaned back in his chair and weaved his fingers together across his stomach. This was interesting. So why was this money sent to MI? That's where he first flagged the money. Mason Industries had claimed bankruptcy and then suddenly, within three hours of the public announcement, a nine hundred and fifty seven million dollar was transferred to the company, effectively buying it out of debt. So far as he could tell, Connor Mason was still in charge of the company, and no power had changed hands. There was something incredibly suspicious with the situation, and Flynn was going to find out where and from whom the money was coming from, and what they were going to get out of it.

     He copied all the files onto a USB packed up for the day. He was looking forward to getting home and stretching out on the couch with Iris and watch a movie.

     The drive home was going smoothly until the car in front of him suddenly threw on their breaks. Flynn pressed his foot on the break, it caught and just as suddenly they didn't work any more. He looked over his shoulder, found an open spot in the lane and pulled the car heavily onto the left shoulder. The driver's side of the car ground into the concrete medium and slowed as he also pulled on the emergency break. The car came to a complete stop some mile and a bit down the shoulder. He relaxed and called 911 to file a report. By the time he was released and the car was being towed, it was three hours after Flynn had signed out of work. He settled for ordering in and petting Iris for the night instead of a movie, falling asleep on the couch.

 

     "Flynn." He answered the phone, not really paying attention to the call display.

     "Hello, Garcia Flynn? This is Detective Atuat Akkitirq, I'm calling regarding your accident last week on the 18th." The voice on the other end introduced herself. "We spoke on the scene."

     "Yes, I remember you." He sat up straight, his attention now strictly on the call. "How can I help you?"

     "Are you somewhere we can talk privately?"

     "I'm at work right now, I could meet you at the precinct in an hour."

     "That sounds good, thank you."

     He hung up, finished up and jumped into his rental and drove downtown to the precinct. He was sitting on a bare bench in the main entrance, waiting for Detective Akkitirq.

     She arrived, a tall, lean brunette, and offered her hand to shake. "Mr. Flynn."

     "Detective Akkitirq." He took her hand as he stood.

     "If you'll follow me, we can talk somewhere more private." She led him up the stairs and into an empty interrogation room. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble, just that no one will disturb us here." She carefully explained that his breaks had been partially cut, and that it was impossible to pinpoint when exactly they had been compromised. Could he think of anyone that might want him dead?

     Flynn leaned back and laughed, this was not the reaction she had been expecting, obviously. "I work for the NSA. Prior to that I was black ops for the US Army, before that the Croatian Army. Believe me when I say the list is shorter if you ask who wouldn't want to cause me harm."

     She schooled her face. "I was unaware of your colourful employment history."

     He shrugged almost passively. "Not something you advertise in this line of work. Even co-workers don't always appreciate the work I do-" He cut himself off. "Actually, there maybe someone to put on the top of your list."

     He dictated the list of eleven NSA names, seven CIA names, and eighteen FBI names. Akkitirq reread the list, verifying the names and spelling.

     "You weren't kidding." She whistled as she looked at the list on her note pad. "And why do they hate you? Forgot the doughnuts? Kicked their ass at Capture The Flag?"

     "Busted their lucrative child smuggling ring. They were making some solid coin ensuring blind eyes saw nothing."

     She whistled again and stood. "I'll follow up on these, try not to get yourself killed in the meantime."

     He nodded. "I try to avoid that normally. But I'll be extra cautious until the trial, Scout's honour." He held up two fingers.

     "You were a Scout too?"

     He licked his lips quickly and gave her a tight smile, mischief in his eye. "Of course not, but that's what you're  _supposed_  to say, isn't it?"

     She laughed and held open the door for him.

 

     Iris stretched on his lap, her tiny paws kneeding into his thigh as he stared at the computer monitor before glancing at his laptop screen. Everything that he had turned up on the account owner painted a very strange picture. Apparently only one account holder even though the money had been around for over a hundred years. He had contacted the most recent bank holding the account. That had been an incredibly confusing call.

_"My name is Agent Garcia Flynn. I am calling in regards to strange transactions from one of your accounts, 9007-8264-1771-4683"_

_There was rapid typing from the other end of the line. "I am sorry, what did you say your name was?"_

_"Agent Garcia Flynn."_

_"May I please have the date and place of birth?"_

_"Why do you need that?"_

_"If you wish to have access to the account, you need to confirm particular information."_

_"Uh, may fourth, nineteen seventy-five. Zagreb, Croatia."_

_"Unfortunately our information does not match. I am sorry, but I cannot help you."_

_"Try Ribnica, Croatia."_

_"That matches. Name of your first love."_

_"Lorena." He replied without thinking. She was the only person he ever truly loved beyond his mother. Lorena may have married his friend, but he would always love her to the ends of the earth and back, even if she didn't reciprocate the feeling._

_"You are approved." The manager verified. "How can I help you today?"_

_"Can you please tell me the name of the account holder?"_

_"Is this a test?" The manager's voice sounded incredulous._

_"What do you mean?" Flynn tried to keep the frustration from his voice. "Never mind. I need the name of the current account holder and copies of all transactions in the last, oh, entirety of time the account has been in your bank's possession. You can email the information to me now, or I can get a warrant, it's your call."_

_"I'd be happy to give you all your requested information under the condition you can answer one last question."_

_Flynn sighed heavily. "What is it?"_

_"Lucy?"_

_"Pardon?"_

_"The other half of the name, Lucy what?"_

_"I don't know, Lucy Annum?" He guessed the actress's name._

_"I'm sorry, but no. I'd be happy to get you all the information with a valid warrant. Good day." The bank manager hung up and left Flynn gaping at the phone._

     He had been trying to get the warrant pushed through, but no one was willing to award a warrant on a gut feeling or suspicion over proof.

     He stared long and hard at the computer. Not sure why, but he backed up the files he was working on, along with all his files on the smuggling ring he was going to testify on in three days. He put everything on a flash drive, zipped the drive in a sandwich bag, and tucked it into a bottle of the most rank cough syrup he had the unfortunate chance to have bought. He put the cough syrup on top of his medicine cabinet.

     Back in his office, Iris curled up on the small pillow in the corner of the desk while he went about deleting all the files, backing up his laptop and desktop, wiping the computers before reinstalling the backups. He deleted the last backups on the external hard drive, and backed up the computers again, covering the wipe and purged files.

 

     It had been three days and Flynn was on high alert. There was no one particular thing that flagged, other than his breaks being tampered with, but a series of small things that kept building over the days. A pencil slightly off from where he put it, a stack of papers a little too neat, his keyboard looked dust free. And when he returned home he had spotted someone on his floor that he didn't recognize. It was too many of these little things to be coincidence to his naturally suspicious mind. He put his key in the lock and push open his door. He flicked the light switch and the bulb in the hall sparked and popped before turning off. He groaned.

     He dropped his keys and wallet on the hall table and was about to close the door when he heard Iris let out a pained mew followed by a hiss and the sound of someone trying not to make a noise. Iris was a tiny black blur as she ran out of the open door. Flynn froze and slowly unsnapped the holster under his left arm and drew the weapon quietly. Gripping it in two hands, he pressed his back to the wall and soundlessly moved towards the living room. He raised the gun to chest level and slid into the room marking three men.

     He fired and dropped two bullets into the centre mass of the man by the couch, he pivoted and repeated with two more shots into the man by the back wall. As he turned towards the third man, a fourth man he missed came through the hall from his office and tackled. His gun was knocked from his hand as he and the new man fought for dominance. Flynn cocked a hip, locked his leg around his assaulter's leg, and rolled over on top of him and let his large fists lay into the man's face and chest. Two more men grabbed his arms from behind and dragged him off. A belt was wrapped tightly around his neck and Flynn tried to struggle and get his fingers between the belt and his neck to no avail.

     "We can't kill him here, too much trace evidence." One of the men said.

 _Professionals,_  was his last thought as his vision faded to black.

 

     He woke up zip tied to a metal chair in the middle of an empty, concrete room. The chair sat in the centre of a small child's pool with three inches of water, his feet, now shoeless, were cold and very wet. He tugged mindlessly at the zip ties, not expecting them to give, they were the kind he would have used on black ops missions. He looked around, trying to identify the types of torture they were going to use against him. Electrocution was obvious from the pool, the generator must be behind him where he couldn't see it.  There was a towel on a table to his left, so they were going to water board him too. A laptop, and  a selection of plyers and knives told him all he needed to know. These men were not very creative, probably US trained, and were not trained to extract information through non-traditional interrogation. Which meant he was dealing with the pedo ring, or the banking money he had been tracking. And if they were planning on torturing him for information, it meant that they hadn't found the harddrive hidden in his mailbox or flash drive hidden in the cough syrup. They were desperate for something, he could use that.

 

     Flynn caught his breath when they turned off the electrical current. Without looking, he knew his feet were basically cooked up to the ankles. It was beyond blisters now. The undersides of his arms where they touched the metal chair had long since blistered, ruptured, and cooked to the arms. The raw flesh on his back had fused to his sweat soaked shirt, the salt no longer stinging him.  He licked his lips and met the eye of his interrogator and laughed hollowly. The man turned to the operator and nodded shortly. The current surged through again, and Flynn passed out, gritting his teeth.

 

     Flynn was starting to think that if he ground his teeth down any harder, they were going to start cracking from the pressure.  _Better his teeth than him,_  he thought mirthlessly. There was a wet crunch and he tried to flex his fingers, well, the remaining seven at least.

     "This is getting us nowhere!" One of the men standing to the side ground out. "Extract the information by whatever means necessary, but do it quickly." He turned on his heel and stormed out.

     Flynn grinned to himself, he knew he held the power here, so long as he could drag this out long enough, or, worst case, manage to hold his tongue until they kill him, he wins. He silently promised not to give them whatever it is they wanted, and he wouldn't risk any of the national security information he was privy to.

     The pliers wrapped around the index finger on his left hand, he was quickly running out of fingers for them to cut off. He howled as the fourth finger was taken. That was the moment he knew he wasn't making it out alive at all.

 

* * *

 

 

     Garcia dropped Lucy off at the library before he started investigating his new life. Something told him that whatever happened to the other him would put Lucy at risk and he wasn't willing to do that to her, she had been through far too much, much of her suffering at his own hand. If he could keep her out of a potential dangerous situation, he would do whatever it took.

     The flash drive sat in his pocket for nine days before Lucy asked to spend the day in the library. As soon as he dropped her off, he stopped off at the mall and picked out a new computer and returned home to set it up. He connected the hard drive that was in the office and restored the previous system, curious of what it would have on it.

     A knock on the door disturbed his watching the update bar slowly proceed. He got up and answered it, Anthony Head stood in his doorway. Lucy managed to get the names of all the security staff that worked in the condo within a few days, they all adored her pleasant greetings and went out of their way to hold doors for her.

     "Yes?" Garcia raised a brow at the man.

     "Uh, sorry to bother you, but the postman was a little annoyed that you had yet to clear out the drive in your box, he couldn't place any more mail in there for you." He shifted his weight awkwardly. "I offered to hand deliver everything instead."

     Garcia nodded at the young man. "Thank you very much for that. Checking my mail had skipped my mind completely, such a mundane task I had forgotten entirely about." He hadn't lied, he also hadn't mentioned that he hadn't needed to collect mail for the past seven years and that he hadn't even considered it as a side effect of existing again. He reached out and collected the pile of envelopes and unwrapped drive from Anthony's hands. "It's probably all bills anyway."

     Anthony nodded and turned to leave and Garcia closed the door. 

     He looked at the envelops and was unsurprised to find that some of them were bills, he opened them to find that they were all on auto pay, one less thing to worry about. He found one from the West Francisco Police Department. Curiously he opened that as he walked into his office and sat down on the office chair. Iris pawed in and deftly leapt onto his lap, stretching before curling comfortably in the space between his thighs.

 

> _Garcia Flynn,_  
>  _I am writing to you as I have been unable to raise you by mobile. I have been trying to follow up on the incident regarding your tampered breaks. I have followed up with many of the names you gave me, but due to the sizeable list, I have not yet made my way through them all. I did, however, find some very interesting information that I would like to speak to you about as soon as possible._  
>  _I am concerned for your safety, especially with word of the break in and your going dark._  
>  _Detective Akkitirq_

     "Well, this is interesting." He said to no one but himself and Iris. 

     The computer finished restoring the previous backup and Garcia notices a suspicious lack of anything of substance. On a whim he plugged in the second drive that was in the mailbox and searched for an old system restore. Seemed the only restore was twenty minutes earlier from the one he just completed. If the other him was just like him, it would be the same restore system, however, this was probably the initial drive that had all the previous backups on it. He pulled out his mobile and dialled one of the most recently added contacts.

     "Jiya, it's Flynn, I have a favour to ask you."

 

     "I'm pretty sure I don't have the clearance to be looking as any of these files," Jiya said as she continued to scroll through them all. "They're all coded with NSA security clearances."

     "Makes sense that I'm NSA here too. Anything in particular flag?"

     She scrolled up and pointed to three folders. "These were the most recently accessed. They were all accessed three weeks before we returned."

     "Alright, thanks Jiya, looks like I need to buy another new computer." He sighed and looked at his watch. "And I should have enough time to do that before I have to pick up Lucy."

     "Oh?" Jiya's attention was suddenly on him. "And how is Lucy doing?"

     He shook his head sadly. "Struggling. We all are, but she seems like she's drowning with everything right now." He looked at Jiya thoughtfully. "Think you might be free to have a girl's evening some time soon?"

     Jiya lit up. "That's a great idea Flynn! I'll text her."

     "Don't tell her about this." His words left no room for question. "I have a feeling that the other me got himself into a big mess and I'm afraid of Lucy getting pulled into it accidentally."

     "If you're that worried, shouldn't you tell her, so she can watch out?"

     He shook his head. "She doesn't need the extra stress." He sighed. "Let me figure out what's what, then I will tell her. I'd rather have a fully assessed situation than only part information, you know how many questions she asks."

     Jiya laughed. "Yup, okay. I won't say anything as long as you promise to tell her."

     Garcia nodded. He took the drive back from Jiya and left. Buying two new laptops before meeting Lucy at the library. She met him at the curb, a small smile on her face as she saw him. He smiled warmly as she tucked her bag at her  feet and did up her seat belt before he pulled away from the curb.

     "There's a present for you on the back seat." He said nonchalantly as he pulled onto the main street.

     "You didn't have to get me anything." She said quietly.

     "I am aware of that." He agreed. "Doesn't stop me from buying you things."

     He listened to her quiet intake of breath. "I'll add it to the tab." She finally said quietly.

     "You are aware that I have no intentions of calling in that debt, correct?" He smiled and winked at her.

     "I still intend to pay you back in full." She raised a defiant brow at him. 

     He chuckled. "I know you do. But it does not change the fact that you have something in a bag, on the back seat. For you. From me. To get started." 

     "Started?" She asked. "Started on what?"

     He smiled and said nothing as he drove them the rest of the way home.

 

     She had been mad, at first, about the brand new mac book, but once he explained it was to get started on her research and whatever else she wanted t do, she settled down a little. Even though she still vowed to pay him back for it. Garcia just smiled and agreed to it, though he would never accept her money when she did try.

     He sat in the office, working away on his laptop, transferring the data Jiya had flagged on the hard drive while Lucy sat at the other end of the office and typed away on her new laptop, biting her bottom lip gently in concentration. He'd steal a glance between his files.

     Apparently old him had flagged a series of financial transactions from a numbered account that raised a lot of questions. But they weren't nearly as interesting to him as the second folder. In it were names, NSA profiles, and documentation of a rather prolific child smuggling ring that appeared to have involved a number of high ranking agents within the NSA, FBI, and CIA as well as Homeland. That was probably why there was the B and E, and he hadn't been seen for the eighteen days before their arrival. So what would happen if he just walked into work like any other day? Garcia leaned back in his chair and planned.

     The other him did have a pretty cushy job with the NSA, benefits and everything, and he knew how to do the job already. It was just a matter of the little things he would need to know in order to slip in. He crossed his hands across his stomach and interlocked his fingers.

     "What happened Garcia?" Lucy had turned in her chair and was watching him with an amused expression.

     "Hmm?"

     "You look like the cat that ate the canary." She explained with a wide smile. "What did you just do?"

     He smiled back at her. "Just planning for the future and it turns out that I probably still have a job at the NSA." He waved a hand gently. "Some minor details to work out first, but I am pretty sure I will be a capable and responsive supporter for this household." He winked at her.

     "Garcia!" She admonished him.

     He held his hands up. "I merely intend to support and maintain this condo in order to best enable your future endeavours, nothing else."

     "I don't even know what those are right now."

     "You don't need to know now, just take some time to yourself." He paused. "Consider it a vacation from the last four years of chasing a terrorist and a secret cabal-like organization through time. I'm pretty sure you have earned at least eight weeks of paid vacation time."

     He watched her as she tried to work out how to argue with him. She was probably about to say something when he interrupted her. "And don't you worry about the costs, I'll save receipts and send them in to Denise. We'll bill her."

     Lucy's jaw dropped and she started to laugh. When she calmed down, she wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled widely. "Sorry, I just had the mental image of Denise getting the reimbursement forms in the mail and trying to figure out who I was and where this was coming from."

     Garcia chuckled, the mental image just as entertaining to him as it was to her.

 

     It had been six days of research, driving and watching before Garcia was ready to set foot into his other him's workplace. He had spoken to Detective Akkitirq and explained as much as he could. She had been surprised to see him, not expecting to have him strut into the precinct while she was rereading the coroner's report of the partial body recovered from the bay. His body according to the little bit of body they had been able to recover.

     He explained that he was, indeed, very much alive and that he had all of his extremities in tact. She shared the report with him, she really shouldn't have, but Garcia could be charming when he wanted to be. He usually only wanted to be charming to Lucy, but this information was to protect Lucy.

     From the foot and finger they had found, the other him, Flynn, had been severely tortured, that much was obvious. Akkitirq was curious as to why someone would go through so much trouble to make it look like he was dead, and where had he been in the meantime? He explained that he had gone to ground, his safety suddenly came into question, and he apologized for not letting her know first, but he wasn't entirely sure who he could trust at the time.

     Garcia had dropped Lucy off at the library as per usual, and drove to the NSA office in Central Fransisco, parked, and swiped in. His ID badge flagged and he spoke to the security officer at the desk. They were surprised to see him and overrode the badge so long as he promised to go straight to HR to get it sorted.

     He did.

     The woman in HR was surprised to see him as well.

     "Mr. Flynn, we had feared the worst." She explained.

     He looked at the name plate on her desk. "I am sorry Ms Buchanan, but a series of most unfortunate events forced me to ground. Thankfully the local constabulary was most obliging."

     "I see, I see." She typed away on her computer. "I will reinstate your ID and remove the flag. My apologies for the inconvenience, next time you go to ground, please be so kind as to warn us first?"

     He smiled tightly. "I will do my best. Thank you." He collected his badge and went back down to the offices, putting his mirrored sunglasses on. He kept his head down, sunglasses on, and carefully watched the reactions of everyone he passed as he entered into his tiny cubical. More than one person on the floor looked a little more put out but his reappearance, and he spotted at least two confirmed people grabbing mobiles out of their desk at his appearance. He made extra special notes of them.

     He dropped his bag, took off his glasses, and sat down at his desk. Garcia took a moment to revel in how mundane going to a desk job was.  The last time he had done something like this was the day Lorena and Iris were murdered. It felt like a new start to him, perhaps less a new start and more a third chance. If a third chance involved a high chance of being killed a second time by your coworkers. He sighed. His life was unreasonably complicated sometimes.

     He logged in and opened his last file which was a duplicate of the numbered account transactions. He decided to start with those while he waited for the other shoe to drop in the office.

     It was near lunch time when Morden dropped by and knocked on the cubical wall.

     "Wanna join me for lunch today?"

     Garcia checked his watch, it was nearing one, he hadn't realised how much time had passed.already. He grabbed his bag and stood. "Sure thing."

      They grabbed food and sat down at a free table away from everyone else and dug into their food in silence.

     "How's Lorena?" Garcia asked eventually. 

     "She's good. Rose too. She's pregnant again."

     Garcia's heart skipped a beat, he thought he'd be prepared for this, but somewhere, deep inside, something clenched down with a possessive bite at the news. Lucy's face swam into focus and he relaxed again. "That's great news, let me know what you guys need. Besides diapers."

     Morden laughed. "I'm pretty sure we still have some of your diapers left over from Rose's baby shower. But yea man, we'll let you know."

     There was another long pause. "What's going on with you? You had the problem with your breaks, then you disappear. Rumour was that they found bits of you in the bay, which is obviously not true."

     "It was something," Garcia said slowly. "Someone went through a lot of trouble to make a foot and finger look and pass some serious tests to pass as me. Not sure why." He carefully watched Morden's reaction as he continued to eat.

     Morden stopped with food halfway to his mouth. "That's pretty messed up, who'd you piss off?"

     Garcia laughed. "You've met me."

     "You're right, everyone you've met. No wonder you're a permanent bachelor." Morden caught the look on Garcia's face. "Wait a second, you're not?"

     He shrugged. "I've met someone."

     "You go to ground, die, resurrect, and somehow find the time to meet someone? I don't even know what to say."

     Garcia chuckled. "I've known her for a while now, we're taking it slow."

     "Not too slow I hope."

     "Slow enough that everyone's happy." 

     "Well, when you're up to speed, bring her over for dinner with Lorena and I, after you introduced us, we've been rooting for you to find someone to make you smile. She has taught you to smile, right?"

     "I do  _not_  smile." Garcia replied grinning before letting his face fall into a neutral expression and lowering his voice. "Can we meet for coffee  after work at the mall?"

     "Why not-" He caught himself and nodded mutely. Garcia nodded back, picked up his tray, and left Morden alone.

     The rest of the day he traced the transactions and began to understand exactly what the other Flynn was chasing, it made him laugh.

     He called up the bank and asked to speak to the manager.

     "Hello again Agent Flynn, but if you are calling about the same account, I cannot help you until you can answer all the security questions."

     "Ask your questions." Garcia replied amused.

     The manager asked all the same questions he had asked the other Flynn, this time Garcia answered them without hesitation.

     "Complete the name, Lucy-"

     "Preston." Garcia didn't hesitate.

     "Correct, and the final question; the final clockblockers."

     "Lucy, Rufus, Jiya, and Garcia."

     "Correct. How may I help you today?"

     "What is the name of the account holder?" Garcia asked, already pretty sure he knew the answer.

     "The only name we have on file is Major General Garcia Flynn." The manager replied. "I find it very interesting that you share the same name and are aware of all the correct answers-"

     "Yes, yes, stroke of luck really." Garcia dismissed the comment. "How did your facility come in possession of this particular account?"

     "We are obviously not the first financial institution to hold the account as it is a hundred and eighty-four years old. That is quite a bit of interest accumulated over the years."

     "Where are you getting your direction to handle the funds of the account from? If the only named holder is dead?"

     "Ah, this is where is gets interesting." The manager replied slowly. "The account came with a long list of direction on how to handle the funds, what kind of accounts, and under what situations to transfer funds."

     "You're telling me that you're following an almost two hundred year old directive?" Garcia was glad to be in his office as he was grinning widely. "Care to explain how that works?"

     "When we acquired the account, we were transferred the account directive with some very detailed conditions that I never expected to see in a modern account let alone one this old. I originally thought it was a joke, but we were also sent the original hardcopy directive. It is very explicit."

     "Including specifying transfers to Mason Industries?"

     "Yes!" The manager sounded strangled. "It said, and I quote, upon declaration of bankruptcy by Mason Industries as created by one Connor Mason, a sum of no less than twenty million and not to exceed four billion is to be transferred to the corporation of Mason Industries under the condition and expectation that the company will continue to be operated by one Connor Mason. End quote."

     Garcia hummed. Covering his desire to laugh, he had worded it quite well. "And I am supposed to believe that this was written in a two hundred year old document?"

     "Would you like to carbon date it?" The manager snapped.

     "I very much would, thank you." Flynn arranged for the document to be dated. He would need it to finish up the damned file other Flynn had opened on himself. He looked at his watch and began to pack up to meet Morden for coffee. He quickly explained that he suspected his breaks, the break in, and the faked death to be in connection to child smuggling ring he broke. The two decided to work together to smoke out whatever was going on.

 

     Garcia and Morden had been working covertly together for three weeks now. Detective Akkitirq had been feeding them information from her end as he syphoned any information they found to her under the guise of the car accident. Garcia felt like things were coming to a head and pulled out his mobile and placed a call.

     "City morgue, you stab 'em," there was a slight pause. "You slab 'em? I mean, I've spent enough time cleaning up your messes Flynnster."

     Garcia repressed a chuckle. "I'm pretty sure I called Jiya's phone, not yours." He looked at the screen which displayed Jiya's name. "Definitely called her. And Flynnster, this is not about to become a thing, is it?"

     "Its been a long day, I'm not fully congnecitant of this timeline at the moment."

     "Rufus, it's eleven in the morning." Garcia clarified.

     "I know, I  _know_." Rufus stifled a yawn at the other end of the line. "Jiya and I have been working for going on three days trying to troubleshoot a major problem at work."

     "Sounds like you guys need a night off."

     "We really, really do." Agreed Rufus.

     "Good, because I need a favour." He could hear Rufus sigh. "Something bad happened to the other me, and I'm elbow deep in the middle of it. Can you convince Lucy to spend a day or two with you guys?"

     "What have you gotten her into?" Rufus voice took a hard edge that he hadn't had in the beginning of their original timeline.

     "It's more like what I'm trying to keep her out of. Rufus, I'm pretty sure I was murdered by my coworkers."

     "Don't you work for the NSA?"

     "Mmmhmm."

     "Analysts shouldn't be that much of a problem."

     "Rufus," Garcia couldn't help but chuckle. " _I'm_  an analyst. And I was one when the preverbal shit his the fan and I stole a time machine."

     "Are they like you?" Rufus asked cautiously.

     "If you're asking if most of my fellow analysts are former military, than the answer is yes. If you're asking if they're as scary as me, the answer's no. But there are more of them than there are of me." Garcia sighed. "No one at work knows about Lucy, unless they've been tailing me. Except for Lorena's husband, but I trust him. I just want Lucy somewhere safe and away from me when this goes all Rittenhouse on me."

     "Rittenhouse? Like actual Rittenhouse, or is this the code word for things going horribly wrong?"

     "Horribly wrong and probably ending with a body count that will hopefully not include mine. Again."

     "Again." Rufus repeated. "Lucy would kill me if she knew you were taking a group of assassins on your own."

     "Lucy can kick my butt when I finish." He sighed again. "Can you and Jiya take her tonight? I'll send a cab to pick her up tonight instead of doing it myself."

     "Naw, don't worry about it. I'll send Jiya and a car to collect her."

 _"Who's on the phone?"_  Jiya called from the background.

     "She just got out of the shower, give me a sec." Garcia heard Rufus put his hand over the speaker muffling his conversation only slightly. "The Flynnster needs us to take Lucy for a day or two so she doesn't get caught up in his trouble again."

 _"Oh, has he finally tracked down who murdered him?"_  She asked casually. 

     "You knew about that?"

_"Ya, helped him hack a drive full of his old files. He said something like this might happen."_

     "And you didn't bother to share?"

 _"It didn't seem to be a problem at the time."_  Jiya replied casually.

     "Didn't seem important?" Rufus sounded blustered. "The man just used Rittenhouse as a code word to describe what's about to happen!"

     There was a pause and the sound of a kiss.

     "Hey Garcia," Jiya said lazily. "Ignore my fiance, he seems to have forgotten about your particular personality quirks. We will be happy to distract Lucy for an evening or two and not tell her that you're about to try and get yourself killed."

 _"Again!"_  Called out Rufus.

     "Again. But can you do us all a big favour? Don't get killed? I've finally gotten used to having you around."

     Garcia couldn't hold back the chuckle. "I like you too Jiya. I pick her up at the library every day at seventeen thirty sharp."

     "Seventeen thirty, right, that's five thirty, right?" There was a slight pause. "Alright, I'll meet her and take her as my willing kidnap victim. Have fun storming the castle."

     "Even I know that quote." He started to pull the phone away from his ear as he heard Jiya question Rufus' choice of Flynnster. He disconnected the call and chuckled quietly to himself as he walked into the tall building.

     He walked past Morden's cubical and paused when he heard his name. "Yes?"

     Morden stood. "Got plans tonight?" He asked, his voice a little louder than it explicitly needed to be.

     "Just me and a bottle of scotch." Garcia replied.

     "Lorena's making dinner, I can have her make an extra setting." He tried to tempt.

     "Thanks for the invite, but I'm really just looking forward to finishing off the bottle. Rain cheque?"

     Morden nodded. "Next time than." He sat back down and Garcia continued on to his own cubical.

     The rest of the day passed too slowly. He wanted to head home and see if they were going to fall into his trap. He had informed the security at his front desk that if there were any noise complaints such as fighting, violence, or gun fire, not to call 911, but to call Detective Akkitirq and left her number. And under no circumstances were they to knock on his door to check on the situation. 

     Once he was in his condo, he began rearranging the furniture, making it more difficult to taverse  easily. He stored spare clips in the couch cousins, kitchen under the table, office, bedrooms, and bathroom. He was unsure where the fight was going to go, so he'd rather be as prepared as possible. 

     He took down the painting of the Serbian landscape and stored the very large screen TV under Lucy's bed. Anything of value was tucked away, including the laptop and hard drives. Last, but not least, he put Iris in her leash and took her down to the front desk.

     "Mind keeping an eye on her for a few hours?" He asked as he put a fifty on the desk beside the bag of cat treats, and the kitten who was currently happily chewing on a plush facehugger toy.

     The desk clerk, his name for Rodrigo Garcia thought, took the leash and nodded. "Absolutely Mr Flynn. I'll make sure not to feed her too many treats."

 

     He went back to his condo, left the door unlocked, poured three fingers of scotch and left the bottle on the table beside the couch and stared at the blank wall where the TV used to be. His gun holstered under his left arm, the safety off.

     He heard the soft click of the door and he pulled out the gun and kept it in his hand, but hidden from the immediate view of anyone walking in.

     "You've redecorated."

     Garcia recognised the voice, but couldn't put a name to it. "Ya, I decided to shake this up recently." He said in a measured casual tone, not looking away from the wall, but counting four men through his peripheral.

     "How are you here Flynn?" The talker asked.

     He shrugged. "I drove myself from work. Public transit just isn't my thing."

     "I should rephrase that, how are you alive Flynn?" He took a step forward. "I remember watching them dismember you."

     Garcia shrugged. "Would you believe me if I told you I have a time machine and am actually from a different timeline but accidentally ended up here?"

     "I never took you for the imaginative type."

     He shrugged again. James. The talker's name was James. "There's apparently a lot that you've mistaken me for." He threw the glass at James and as the four men ducked and scattered, Garcia brought his pistol up and placed two shots in James' centre mass, a third missed his head as he fell.

     Garcia rolled over the back of the couch and ducked, using it for cover. Two of the gunmen tried to move around him by way of the kitchen. Garcia lay flat on his back and dropped them each in three shots before they made it to the small dining table where he and Lucy ate breakfast this morning.

     "This would be much easier if you'd just stay still and stop fighting." James groaned as he got back to his feet under the cover of the hall wall.

     "Oh, so you can kill me again?" Garcia answered dryly. "I'd rather not." He moved into a crouch, his back against the wall dividing the kitchen from the hall as he changed the nearly empty magazine out as quietly as possible.

     "I can't understand why not, perhaps it has something to do with that doll of yours?"

     Garcia stiffened. "You threatening me James?"

     "I'd rather not if I didn't have to. A man such as you is a formidable opponent when cornered." The grin was as apparent in his words as it was on his lips. "Wouldn't it be easier to just do what I say so we don't need to bring her in?"

     "You touch a hair on her head and I'll-"

     "Now, now. Threats like that are so boring, I thought you'd be more creative."

     "I'll tear down your entire illegal organization and personally ensure that you are either escorted to the gates of hell, or a black site where you'll never see the light of day again." Garcia's voice was eerily calm. Lucy had survived Rittenhouse, and worse, she had survived him when he was his darkest. There was no way he was going to chance another idiocratic secret society hurting her.

     "I'm pretty sure that's the most I've ever heard you talk outside of a debrief, Flynn." James chuckled. "I should have threatened her sooner, if I'd have known about her. She'd have vastly improved your interrogation." 

     "Hmm." He hummed as he reached up to the kitchen table and grabbed a salt shaker off the table and tossed it to his right while he dove out of the kitchen to his left. He turned and fired into the kitchen where the third man moved in. One shot to the head. He was going to have to move the fridge to clean up the blood, he thought as he rolled behind the couch again.

     "Flynn, this is becoming tiresome." James sighed loudly. "Will you just give up now?"

     "I am unclear why I'd give up when I have the upper hand?" Garcia raised a brow.

     "Because you're out numbered, out gunned, and going to die. Again." He added the last part as an afterthought.

     "You have no idea what I've been doing for the last five years."

     "I've seen your files." Laughed James.

     "Not everything is in the files James." Garcia ground out. "Now I suggest you lay down your gun and give up."

     "Not really my personal preference." James chuckled before whistling sharply. The door to the condo opened and even without looking Garcia could hear at least six more men come in, possible eight. He checked the magazine, he was down the one round in the chamber, which left fifteen rounds plus the partial magazine in his pocket. So long as he didn't miss, he would be fine. Garcia stood up, twisting to face the hall were everyone had entered, levelling his Glock at James who was holding Lucy tightly.

     "You're not going to shoot her." Garcia said flatly.

     "What makes you say that?" Smirked James.

     "Because if you shoot her now, you have no leverage on me while you re-interrogate me. No leverage means same dead me like last time." His lips moved tightly. "And I'd rather not have to come back from the dead again, it's messy and troublesome."

     James adjusted his pistol so the barrel rested in her soft belly. "Or I could shoot her in the stomach and you can watch her bleed out slowly."

     Garcia assessed the situation. He didn't believe that James would shoot Lucy quite yet, he wasn't prepared to risk her safety with the seven other armed grunts. He racked back the slide, popping out the round in the chamber, before flicking on the safety and ejecting the magazine. He tossed the empty pistol into the centre of the room and held up his hands in surrender.

     "Now wasn't that easy?" James motioned for three men to restrain Garcia.

     Garcia waited until they were close enough before throwing a sharp elbow into the nose of the closest one, and turned to punch the second in the jaw before twisting the gun out of the hand of the third. Three shots later and Garcia stood in the middle of three corpses, his pistol trained on James' head.

     "I still control the girl." James grinned.

     "Like hell you do!" Lucy growled as she slammed the heel of her shoes into the top of James' foot before dropping her weight, pulling him off balance, and elbowing him between the legs. James' grip on the gun loosened, but his other arm tightened around her waist. Lucy wasted no time in punching him in the middle of his leg, hitting a nerve that caused him to immediately crumple to the ground. Lucy grabbed his gun and levelled it at the remaining four men as she carefully picked her way across the shambles of the living room and stood beside Garcia.

     "Are you hurt?" He asked softly, not taking his eyes off the remainder, no matter how much he wanted to check her over himself.

     "I'm fine," she nodded. "You?"

     "Not as dead as they'd like me to be." The left side of his lips twitched slightly in a smile.

     "Good." Lucy spared a glance at him. "Stay that way."

     He nodded and almost too casually stepped in front of Lucy while systematically taking out the remainder of the men as Lucy down for the cover of the couch. He cleared the condo, one room at a time before returning to Lucy and offering her a hand to her feet.

     She looked around. "We really need to redecorate." Slugs lined the walls. "Again."

     He nodded as he focused on looking her over. "Are you truly okay Lucy? Did they hurt you in any way?"

     "Only my ego." She handed him the pistol in her hand.

     He flicked on the safety and tucked in the back of his pants. "How did they get you?"

     She shrugged. "Rufus and Jiya insisted on dinner tonight, I wanted to drop my things off and, uh, never mind. They were very insistent that I don't stop at home, that made me very suspicious." She stared at her feet. "They grabbed me as I was getting out of the elevator."

     He took her by the shoulders and crushed her against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. "Haven't you learned that if something's suspicious, you should stay away?"

     Lucy smiled and placed her palm on his shoulder, the heel just grazing his collar bone. Garcia reached up and covered her hand with his. He was about to say something when the door opened again. Garcia wrapped Lucy up in his arms and spun her around while dropping them into a crouch, using the couch as cover once again. When she was safely under cover, Garcia swung the pistol over the top of the couch, focusing on his target, as he stood and stopped.

     "Whoa, whoa whoa whoa!" Rufus held his hands up as he stepped over the bodies littering the ground.

     "I almost shot you." Garcia rolled his eyes and flicked the safety on again and tucked the pistol away with the other one in the back of his pants. He was running out of room to keep them. He bent down and offered his hand to Lucy and help her to her feet.

     "Again."

     "Hmm?" He didn't look at Rufus as he once again checked Lucy over knowing that she was probably still fine.

     "You almost shot me again."

     "Are you  _still_ going on about tha-" Garcia finally gave Rufus an exasperated look before pursing his lips in a small smile. "You got me on that one."

     Jiya was a few steps behind Rufus looking around the condo. "You guys really need to redecorate. Bullet holes are not in the interior designer's handbook."

     "And what would you know about that?" Rufus teased. "You just cover things up with Doctor Who memorabilia."

     "At least I don't make everything Star-" Jiya shot back warmly.

     "Look!" Rufus interrupted her. "Let's not get into this here. We should, uh, call someone to clean this up?"

     "What do you expect me to do, make a  _dinner reservations_?" Garcia chuckled.

     "Did you just make a John Wick reference?" Rufus turned to Jiya in surprise. "Did he? Keanu Reeves?"

     Jiya and Lucy laughed.

     "He's almost as badass as Keanu, wouldn't agree?" Lucy teased with a wink.

     Garcia choked. "Almost?!"

     "I think we should call that detective of yours, don't you think Flynn?" Jiya interrupted.

     "What detective?" Lucy pipped up?"

     "Uh, the one he didn't tell you about yet because he likes to get himself into trouble." Jiya explained.

 

     After a call to both NSA and Detective Akkitirq, the four of them were questioned and released after Garcia handed over the audio and video evidence he made in the condo. Everyone was quite surprised at the consideration, Garcia just shrugged it off. The NSA paid to put Garcia, Lucy, and Iris up in a hotel while his condo was being cleaned and patched back up. Iris was initially suspicious of the new smells, but as soon as she discovered that she had more room to run on her 3am spaz outs, she was content. Lucy on the other hand, was not.

     "Remind me again why you felt that not telling me that past you was murdered was a good idea?"

     Garcia sat bashfully on the chesterfield as she stood above him and stared at his hands folded in his lap. "You had enough to worry about."

     She let out an exasperated sigh. "Garcia, what do you think I'd have done if something had happened to you? Again!" She dropped down onto the open seat beside him and reached out to lay a hand over his. "I have not made any issue about how much I rely on you. But I'd very much appreciate you  _not_ going out of your way to get yourself killed, alright?"

     Garcia looked up at her, first thing he noticed was how wet her eyes looked, the second was the way she was looking at him. If he was honest with himself, it was much the same way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking. He nodded at her and took one of his hands to engulf hers. "I promise I won't try and prevent internal conspiracies without consulting you first." He stood and gently drew her to her feet. "Shall we go out for some supper?"

     Lucy nodded. "I don't think I'll ever tire of eating out again, the bunker killed eating in for me!" She laughed lightly.

     "Oh, I don't know," Garcia smiled with a hint of mischief in his eye. "There are some advantages to eating in." He laughed as he watched her mentally walk through the potential reasons for his comment before turning red. "Come on, let us find a restaurant."

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I am incapable of writing short chapters.  
> I have no regrets.


End file.
